


Save Your Ammunition For Somebody Else

by skyline



Series: We Were Born To Fuck Each Other (One Way Or Another) [2]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Angst, Companion Piece, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not romantic to love someone for your entire life, he thinks. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. But the thing he is forced to acknowledge before every concert, if he has even a moment to pause and think, the thing that plagues his mind if there is even a second long lull in the crowd’s anticipatory cheers is that- He doesn’t know how to stop. He’s been in love with James for his entire life, and he just doesn’t know how to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save Your Ammunition For Somebody Else

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, the story here is that I succumbed to peer pressure. I had some inquiries about whether I would do a sequel to The Things That Keep Me Alive (Keep Me Alone) both on LJ and on Ffn. My initial reaction was fuck no, that was emotionally harrowing and why would you put me through even thinking about that story ever again? But then I caved, because I am weak willed and possibly a bit of a sadomasochist. I figured a 5k companion piece where you see everything from Kendall's eyes wouldn't hurt...5k. Pssh. That worked out well. For the record though, this is considerably less polished than it's predecessor because- well, because it was not planned or agonized over for months like the previous story. I believe it was agonized over for two weeks, and I was mostly in it so I could perv over some meta. So, to sum that up: companion piece, shoddier writing, much vaguer sex....yeah.

Kendall met James the first day of preschool.  
  
Some things stand out about that day.  
  
The mild sense of irritability he felt towards his mother, who was pretty much ecstatic to have him out of her hair for the first time since his birth. The way he clung to his dad’s legs, because _he_ wa _s_ acting way more sympathetic to Kendall’s innate _fear_ of a cage full of three to four year old strangers.  
  
And _learning_. Who wanted to learn anything when they could be watching Sesame Street, anyway?  
  
(Most of Kendall’s dad’s sympathy probably stemmed from the fact that he was not as desperate to _finally_ get a manicure and a full spa day as Kendall’s mom was, but, whatever. It was sympathy all the same.)  
  
When the teacher offered Kendall a chocolate chip cookie and a juice box, he was pretty much sold on the idea of this whole school thing. It convinced him to let go of his dad’s leg.  
  
And then he met James, standing in the corner in a dorky _everyone loves me best_ shirt. He was telling anyone who would listen that it was perfectly acceptable for little boys to play with toy unicorns. To emphasize his point, he had one cradled in his arms; sparkly white with a rainbow colored tail.  
  
Kendall had the same model at home. He went up and asked to pet James’s pony. James looked very pleased.  
  
And then Jenny Tinkler made fun of them, so they beheaded all of her Barbie dolls.  
  
They’d been best friends ever since.  
\---  
The first show Kendall plays alone is in New York City, at a dark club with drinks that look like highlighter fluid. He stands on stage, peering through too-hot lights at women in sequined dresses who sparkle like stars with every shift of movement and men wearing cheap ripped jeans and expensive designer blazers.  
  
The marketing department is trying to sell him to a more sophisticated crowd.  
  
Kendall wants to shrink into himself and disappear.  
  
Logan and Carlos are in the crowd too, which is weird. He can almost make them out, staring up at him from the front of the stage, balancing sweaty bottles of Bud in a sea of Hulk-green cocktails. Almost instinctively, Kendall looks to his right, to his left, like they might leap up on stage to join him.  
  
They don’t.  
  
Kendall takes a deep breath and realizes that he really does have to do this, _alone_. His hands are trembling, but it’s okay. He doesn’t have any choreography to go through. Just himself and his guitar and an acoustic set list that’s gotten the Gustavo Rocque stamp of approval.  
  
When he opens his mouth, no sound comes out. He cringes, dread in his stomach, and tries again.  
  
In the bright spotlight, he can almost imagine he sees James, an anchor beside him.  
  
He thinks about the way James looked when he told him to _fuck off_. When he destroyed everything that James had worked towards his entire life. That makes it worse; his throat feels like it’s going to close up forever. So he stares at the space where James would be and thinks about the way he smiles. The stupid, beautiful smile that he’s never going to see again.  
  
And that’s when Kendall starts singing.  
  
Because he has no choice.  
  
Because if he doesn’t, he’s scared that he might stop breathing.  
  
\---  
Jessica was Kendall’s next door neighbor. Kendall had known her since long before preschool, and he was in third grade now. So basically, they’d been friends _forever_.  
  
He thought James and Logan and Carlos were pretty much the best people in the world, but sometimes it was nice to play with Jess. She was familiar. She was safe. Plus, she didn’t make fun of Kendall when he wore her glitter body lotion.  
  
Hanging out with Jessica was very cool. Until the day she kissed him.  
  
Kendall was old enough to know that he was supposed to like it. He was supposed to grow up one day and fall in love with a girl who he’d kiss all the time.  
  
Liking it didn’t really describe how he felt. It was nice and everything, but mostly all Kendall could think about was how kissing Jessica was a lot like how he imagined kissing Carlos or Logan or James would be. In fact, he almost thought James would be better at it. James was always doing weird things with his mouth during all his stupid singing lessons. That had to count as like, practice, right?  
  
Kendall didn’t want to hurt Jessica’s feelings or anything, though, so he smiled at her afterwards and asked if she wanted to jump on the trampoline. Which they did until his mom came and told him James was over.  
  
He was too embarrassed to tell James about the kiss.  
  
A few weeks later, Jessica picked a fight with Kendall. It was about something random and female, meaning Kendall had no idea what on earth was _wrong_ with her. He figured she’d get over it, eventually. Girls couldn’t hold grudges forever. He was almost positive they couldn’t.  
  
Then, one day, Kendall was playing video games in his living room and he saw James on the sidewalk. He went to open his front door, excited that someone was around so he could show off the newest cheat code he’d learned. He’d been dying to show somebody. Anybody.  
  
Normally he’d have run next door and showed off to Jess, but that was obviously a bust.  
  
His hand was on the knob, ready to turn, when he saw that James wasn’t actually coming to his house at all. Kendall watched him troop up the steps next door, looking kind of resigned to his fate; like he didn’t even want to be there.  
  
Jessica’s mom let James inside. Kendall watched the door for a few seconds, to make sure James hadn’t just gotten the wrong house. Then, because it was a nice day, Kendall ran into his backyard, positive that Jessica was playing in hers. He peered through the slats in the fence that separated their yards, holding his breath.  
  
At first, James and Jessica just played on the trampoline, jumping up and down until they were red faced and breathless. James demonstrated his stupid back flips and somersaults so often that it made Kendall smile in this stupid fond way. James hadn’t changed since the day they met. He was such a showoff.  
  
Kendall got bored quick, spying on his two best friends. He was about to go back inside when, on the same spot where she kissed Kendall less than a month ago, Jessica kissed James.  
  
It lasted less than five seconds. But in those five seconds, Kendall decided that his next door neighbor was a word that his dad said a lot, but told him never to use.  
  
It didn’t matter what his dad told him though, because Jessica was a total _bitch_.  
  
Kendall talked to her later at a neighborhood birthday party. She told him that she’d made a mistake. That she liked James because he was sweet and nice and cute. Kendall told Jessica that she had a weird looking nose and dumped cake over her head.  
  
When James broke up with her a few months later, Kendall did a completely immature victory dance in his backyard, where he knew she could see if she decided to look.  
  
He never spoke to Jessica again, not even in fifth grade, when she moved to Wisconsin.  
  
It didn’t even occur to him to be mad at James.  
\---  
A few months before shit turned bad, Kendall and James snuck into the studio. It was late, and most everyone had gone home. They turned on the mixing board and laid down a few of their own tracks.  
  
Mostly silly songs, things that no one in their right minds would actually want to listen to. But there was this one song that James had written himself, this gorgeous pop ballad that probably wouldn’t ever get much radio play if he got famous (back then, Kendall thought James getting famous was inevitable). But was still too beautiful to never get heard.  
  
James was embarrassed by it, Kendall clearly remembers. He didn’t want anything to do with the silly little CD they’d made, more an EP than anything else.  
  
Kendall kept it. He has all the songs on his iPod now. The original copy of the CD, jewel case and all, is in a safe deposit box for no other reason than that Kendall doesn’t want to lose it.  
  
Sometimes, Kendall will walk by the water in Malibu, earbuds in, letting James’s voice wash over him like the waves lapping his ankles. When he listens to James sing, he can think about his smile, about the way he always smelled like sea salt and manspray, and about how much he still wants him, even now.  
  
It doesn’t hurt as much when he has James’s voice in his ear. The ache is still there, pain etched into the ventricles of his heart, but it’s more beautiful, somehow, like James’s voice has the power to make everything better.  
  
James always had this way of making things more beautiful.  
\---  
Paige was Kendall’s first honest to god crush, in seventh grade. She was smart and pretty and a little bit vain. Kendall always caught her checking herself out in shiny surfaces, which was cute. It reminded him of someone else he knew.  
  
Thing was, Paige didn’t really seem to know that Kendall existed. Every time he tried to talk to her, she stared at her shoes and maybe, if he was lucky, stammered out a reply.  
  
Then she got paired with James for a science project.  
  
James knew Kendall liked her. Kendall had spent hours outlining why Paige was, in essence, the perfect girl while James flipped through issues of People he’d stolen from his mom. James had given Kendall countless tidbits of advice on how to get Paige to notice him. So yeah.  
  
James _knew_.  
  
It didn’t stop him from working his stupid, charming magic on her. All of a sudden, all of Paige’s attention was focused on James, _all of the time_.  
  
Kendall couldn’t really blame her for it. James was kind of gorgeous.  
  
Kendall decided crushes were stupid, anyway.  
\---  
Before every concert, Kendall does a quick inventory. He runs through a list, from the mic clutched in his clammy hand to the polished wood of the stage beneath his Vans to the breath caught like panic in his lungs.  
  
He never used to freak out, back when he had the guys by his side. With them, he felt invincible.  
  
Alone, Kendall is lost. He’s a leader with no one to lead, no one else to focus on or worry about. And Kendall has never, ever been very good at focusing on himself. Too much introspection makes him squeamish.  
  
Kendall’s mom, of course, has always told him that he’s a good person. But sometimes, when Kendall’s feeling sorry for himself, he wonders if that’s true. What kind of person singlehandedly murders their best friend’s dream, their future?  
  
Not a good one, probably. Not a decent one.  
  
But then he thinks about the way James looked when he was fucking Kendall’s girlfriend, about the way her lipstick glistened against his neck and the way he was so damn sure that Kendall would forgive him. About how Kendall did forgive him, over and over and over again, right up until-  
  
When he thinks about it like that, Kendall doesn’t care about being decent anymore.  
  
He let James step all over him, because he thought that James cared about him. He’d been convinced that the little boy he met in preschool with the sparklepony would never hurt him on purpose. Kendall had allowed himself to get lost in this fantasy world where love conquers all.  
  
Now, Kendall knows better.  
  
It’s not romantic to love someone for your entire life, he thinks. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic.  
  
But the thing he is forced to acknowledge before every concert, if he has even a moment to pause and think, the thing that plagues his mind if there is even a second long lull in the crowd’s anticipatory cheers is that-  
  
He doesn’t know how to stop.  
  
He’s been in love with James for his entire life, and he just doesn’t know how to _stop_.  
  
\---  
  
Kendall started dating Ruby in high school. He met her in the art elective his mom forced him to take. He was the only hockey player in the whole class, and it kind of sucked hard until Ruby began to talk to him.  
  
She was really pretty. She had this adorable button nose, and she always had some kind of weird class medium smeared on parts of her body, whether it was a streak of charcoal under her eye or a smudge of honeysuckle across her elbow.  
  
She loved art. She loved to create things. She even brought her own paints to school, including this hideous chartreuse color that Kendall was reasonably sure should never actually have seen the light of day.  
  
He asked her out about three weeks into the marking period. Next thing he knew, Ruby became this huge part of his life. She was always there; at lunch, in the bleachers at practice, waiting for him after school. James and Logan and Carlos complained that she took up most of Kendall’s time, but they liked her. He could tell by the way they hadn’t pulled any mean pranks on her yet.  
  
They’d been together for nearly six months. The only problem with their relationship was that Kendall wasn’t Ruby’s _first_ boyfriend. When they were together, alone, she moved fast. Way too fast.  
  
Kendall knew he was a fifteen year old boy and shouldn’t have thought any such thing, but he couldn’t help it.  
  
The first time things went too far, he was in Ruby’s room. Her parents were downstairs, but they didn’t seem to have really strict rules regarding boys in the house. Which was why Kendall had Ruby’s legs wrapped around him while she pulled off his shirt and his sweater in one fell swoop. She was grinding up against him and there was this amazing spark of friction between them that Kendall had never felt before, not once in his entire life. It was so good, and all he wanted was more, except then her fingers were inside his jeans, pulling at the cloth of his boxers and-  
  
“Wait, wait.” Kendall gasped, because suddenly all he could think about was James and the way he looked that afternoon in his maroon and gold hockey jersey.  
  
He was thinking about James’s long fingers and the way they’d feel against his cock and it wasn’t right. He couldn’t do this.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked.  
  
Kendall couldn’t tell her. Shamefaced and stricken, he gathered up his shirt, his sweater, and got the hell out of her house as fast as he possibly could.  
  
 Ruby didn’t seem to blame him for it. She didn’t bring it up the next few times they hung out. But when James came to him with some wild accusations about Ruby being just a smidge too close with her best guy friend, it was almost a relief.  
  
When James came to Kendall with a picture that looked incriminating enough, but didn’t really prove anything at all, it was like Kendall could suddenly _breathe_. He used the picture as an excuse to get out of the relationship. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but when she stared at him with red rimmed, kohl lined eyes, Kendall just wondered why she was upset.  
  
It wasn’t like he’d touched her in ages. Not even for a kiss.  
  
He couldn’t kiss her when he thought of James every night with his hand on his dick. He just couldn’t bring himself to betray her like that.  
  
So the end? Yeah. Definitely let him breathe easy.  
  
At hockey practice a few weeks later, though, they were getting dressed, fooling around, when Carlos turned to James and asked, “What’s that?”  
  
“What?” James strained to see what Carlos was pointing at; a bright smear on the back of James’s arm. Kendall peered close, trying to figure it out.  
  
“It looks like-“ He bit off his words. Because it looked like a bright streak of chartreuse paint. The same color he’d seen Ruby using in the studio countless times. The same color she told him she bought special from the art supply store.  
  
With Kendall’s face so close to James, he could see that it wasn’t just on his arm. Miniscule flecks dotted his neck, his shoulders, his abdomen. Either he’d been rolling around in Ruby’s special paint, or he’d been rolling around with _Ruby_.  
  
Kendall forced a smile and concluded, “Dunno.”  
  
James tilted his head, puzzled, beautiful. After a second he grinned, all open and honest and the same kid Kendall had known since preschool.  
  
The same kid who wanted to steal everything that Kendall had ever had away.  
  
Kendall stopped that line of thought right there. He grit his teeth, turning towards his locker, but then he was hit in the face with a rumpled jersey.  
  
“Catch,” James cheered, a second too late.  
  
He was still smiling, all wide and genuine, and Kendall realized that there was a problem here. And that problem was that he _couldn’t_ hate James for what he’d done. Which was kind of sick. Because in all likelihood, James _fucked_ Kendall’s ex, and he just- couldn’t hate him for it.  
  
To retaliate for the sweaty jersey to the face, Kendall decided to launch a tickle attack against James, ignoring the catcalls and very pointed _gay_ remarks that were thrown out from their teammates.  
  
To retaliate for Ruby, Kendall dug his fingertips into James’s ribs extra hard.  
  
When James laughed, Kendall didn’t even have the capacity to be mad anymore.  
  
\---

Kendall’s in the studio when he gets a phone call from Logan. Logan, who without prelude, announces, “You need to come with me to Camille’s play.”  
  
Kendall rolls his eyes and says, “Actually, I don’t.”  
  
“Yes, you do.”  
  
“I can’t. I’m a busy man.”  
  
“You’re a famous man. Hot girls and Lamborghinis _famous_. You should be taking advantage of it.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“What did you do last night?”  
  
Kendall frowns at one of Gustavo’s posters. It’s not for Big Time Rush. Gustavo offered to take that one down, but Kendall asked him not to. It still got conveniently relocated to one of the far corners of the studio where few people ever go, except Kendall, when he’s feeling masochistic.  
  
When he’s missing James’s face so much that he feels like he might actually scour the streets of Los Angeles to find him. Or worse, break down and call him.  
  
Kendall will not give James the satisfaction of an apology. Not this time.  
  
“I went out for drinks with my backup band.”  
  
“How many drinks?”  
  
“Two,” Kendall admits, resenting the inquisition, but knowing better than to lie to Logan.  
  
“And _then_ what did you do?” Logan asks, and he is such a smug bastard.  
  
“I went home and watched the game. _Come on_ , the Wild was playing.”  
  
“You’re a horrible rockstar.”  
  
“I don’t remember you partying it up when you were famous,” Kendall accuses, drumming his fingers against the wall.  
  
“I had different life goals, thanks. But you, you’re stuck with this now. You’ve made a name for yourself. You’re always going to be _Kendall Knight_.”  
  
“We’re always going to be Big Time Rush,” he corrects, automatically.  
  
“That’s not true,” Logan says sadly.  
  
And Kendall hates that he’s right. Most people barely even remember their little boy band, or if they do they treat it like it was a joke. Like it wasn’t part of the most important period of Kendall’s life.  
  
And even then…they can never really be Big Time Rush again. Not without James.  
  
“So how does going to Camille’s play make me a rockstar? It’s at the opera house. I’m pretty sure that’s the antithesis of cool.”  
  
“Dude, VIP seats only. Tickets to this thing are _hot_ right now. Besides, I want to do something nice for her.”  
  
“Can’t you do something nice for her with Carlos?”  
  
“Carlos is filming a sitcom. In Australia. So no.”  
  
“What if-“ Kendall bites his lip and forces out, “What if James is there? He’s still friends with Camille, right?”  
  
“I’m still friends with James,” Logan protests, and Kendall can almost hear him making a face over the other end of the line as he adds, “Or I would be if he’d answer my goddamned phone calls.”  
  
“He’s screening you?”  
  
“For years now,” Logan admits, “Carlos too. But we alternate calling him every week.”  
  
“I don’t know why he doesn’t just pick up. It’s not like anything was your fault.”  
  
“I don’t think it has anything to do with blame, Kendall,” Logan says quietly.  
  
Kendall feels anger swell in his belly. “Don’t you _dare_ try to make me feel guilty.”  
  
“I would never do that. But- you should stop thinking about him.”  
  
Like Kendall can do that, ever. James is just a memory, now; a memory that always makes him so sad. But it’s not always a bad sadness. Sometimes it’s a wonderful ache, remembering all the good times they had together.  
  
Wonderful, right up until the sting of the bad times works its way into Kendall’s mind, souring everything.  
  
“You need to come to the play,” Logan is saying, “It’ll be fun. We’ll take Camille out for drinks afterwards. You can have more than two.”  
  
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”  
  
“Maybe I’ll even get you laid,” Logan jokes.  
  
“Sure,” Kendall says easily, even though getting laid is the last thing he wants. The last few one night stands he’s had have left him with a sick feeling in the back of his throat, and he hasn’t  been able to hold down real a relationship since- well.  
  
Logan knows it, too. Kendall’s always been too easy to read.  
  
“So you’ll be there?”  
  
“I guess. Do I have a choice?”  
  
“No. I’ll pick you up in front of your apartment at six. Wear something nice.”

\---

  
Taylor was this kid that Kendall found playing street hockey in an empty lot a few blocks down from the Sherwood Market. Kendall was bored on the job, pushing carts around the parking lot and beyond, hoping no one would catch him playing hooky.  
  
Taylor nearly took his eye out with a puck.    
  
Which pretty much made Kendall like him instantly. They bonded over hockey, over their favorite teams and players. Taylor was the first kid Kendall had ever met who really wanted to go pro. Not like James or Carlos or Logan, who all had different dreams for when they grew up. Taylor wanted to _make it_.  
  
He made it into Kendall’s room three days later. And when Taylor unzipped the front of his jeans, Kendall let him. He liked the weight of another guy against him. He liked the way Taylor didn’t give a fuck when he wanted to play Halo instead of cuddling on the couch.  
  
It was pretty much the perfect relationship.  
  
Until Taylor met James.  
  
They ended up getting in this huge argument about it.  
  
It was partly Kendall’s fault. He was stressed because he missed James’s play a few days back. It was this _huge_ part for him, and James was so damn proud of getting it. Kendall had every intention of going, but then he’d gotten distracted with Taylor. And Taylor’s hands on his cock.  
  
Which he’d decided pretty much made him the worst friend ever.  
  
James seemed to agree. He’d been short with Kendall all week.  
  
It didn’t help when he talked to Taylor about it. He listened for all of four seconds before snapping, “Okay. I can’t take this anymore.”  
  
“Take what?”  
  
“You whining about your fucking boyfriend!”  
  
“ _What?”_  
  
“James. He’s in love with you!”  
  
“Don’t be _ridiculous_.”  
  
Taylor’s eyes widened. He actually looked kind of hurt.  
  
“I’m _not_. You don’t even see it- the other day that kid was watching you like you were the last drink of water in the desert.”  
  
Kendall rolled his eyes because, like he’d said, _ridiculous_. Taylor had met James once. That hardly made him an authority about anything.  
  
He refused to argue about it. “If you’re going to act like a jealous asshole, I’m going home.”  
  
“Seriously? You don’t believe me?” Taylor yelled, incredulous.  
  
“James is my best friend. He doesn’t think about me like that.”  
  
The words tasted bitter in Kendall’s mouth.  
  
“Yeah? I’d bet my right hand that he wants to fuck you.”  
  
Kendall looked him straight in the eye, feeling like his heart had jumped into his throat, because god. Kendall would do anything for that to be true. Whatever this thing was that he felt for James; it had gotten awful. He was all Kendall could think about, sometimes. He haunted every single one of Kendall’s dreams.  
  
“You’d lose.”  
  
“Would I? Maybe you just don’t want to see it because you feel the same way about him,” Taylor snarled.  
  
Bingo.  
  
“Fuck. You.”  
  
He felt horrible about the fight. It wasn’t Taylor’s fault that he was obviously delusional. Kendall figured he’d probably hit himself in the head too many times practicing his slapshot off a brick wall.  
  
Which didn’t mean Kendall had to apologize. He had pride. He had the moral high ground.  
  
Eventually, Kendall caved. The moral high ground was _boring_.  
  
He went to that empty lot to find him, thinking that he’d just suck it up and say sorry. It had been two weeks, and he was horny and angry and a little bit lonely. James was still kind of avoiding him, and Logan and Carlos were all caught up in this science fair thing. He figured him and Taylor could just. Start over.  
  
Kendall found him in the lot, but he wasn’t alone.  
  
Taylor had his arms wrapped around James. He had his tongue shoved down Kendall’s best friend’s throat. Kendall was stuck, frozen to the spot.  
  
He wanted to hit James.  
  
He wanted to hit Taylor, more, to shove him away from James.  
  
He wanted James to kiss _him_ like that. Once. Just fucking _once_. Was that too much to ask for?  
  
But James didn’t want him. James just wanted all the things that Kendall had, all the people he got close to. James couldn’t see the way that he’d worked underneath Kendall’s skin, the way he was in Kendall’s veins.  
  
James was in Kendall’s throat, in his lungs, like a song, like a building scream.  
  
And Kendall couldn’t do a single thing other than watch.  
  
When they broke for air, Taylor saw him.  
  
Later that night, he showed up at the hockey rink.  
  
“I thought I would find you here.”  
  
“Why did you even bother?”  
  
“Look- James is. He’s-“  
  
“Yeah,” Kendall said brusquely. He knew. He knew so much better than Taylor would ever be able to.  
  
“I wasn’t trying to steal him from you,” Taylor said, like he ever could. The one comfort Kendall had here was that James went through lovers like trees went through seasons. Kendall would still be his friend long after Taylor was just some bad memory. He took sadistic pleasure in that. “I wanted to prove a point. To prove that he was gay for you and- it all just kind of spiraled. He’s amazing.”  
  
Kendall thought about them kissing and kind of wanted to smash the puck through Taylor’s teeth.  
  
“Get out.”  
  
“Kendall-“  
  
“Get. Out.”  
  
Kendall ended up putting his fist through the locker room wall after Taylor left. When James asked him about his scabbed knuckles the next day at school, finally breaking their awkward silence, Kendall told him that he fell.  
  
He never figured out if James believed him.  
  
He could never figure James out at all, anymore.

\----

  
“Kendall.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Are you listening to me?”  
  
Kendall nods, even though he has no idea what Kelly was actually saying. It’s probably something about his upcoming tour, or the music video he’s got lined up to film or the charity concert on the beach a few weeks from now. He doesn’t really talk about anything other than work with Kelly; not anymore.  
  
He’s not sure if it’s because she’s grown more professional as she’s gotten older or if it’s because he’s more guarded with his feelings or- if maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t really like him very much after everything that’s happened.  
  
Kendall’s okay with that. He doesn’t like himself very much either.  
  
Kelly hesitates before saying, “You know, if you need to take some time off, I can talk to Gustavo.”  
  
“I don’t, Kendall replies.  
  
“But-“  
  
“I don’t. Drop it, okay?” Softer, he adds, “Please?”  
  
Kelly sighs and nods. “You just seem- tired.”  
  
“I’m exhausted,” Kendall replies, because he is. He walks around feeling like all of his insides have been scraped raw; love a constant knife in his gut. It’s enough to wear anyone out. “But time off won’t help.”  
  
It’s not like he ever gets any sleep anyway.

\---

  
Kendall met Faith for the first time at a party in the fall. She was a cheerleader, and she gave blowjobs like she was born to do it.  
  
She was kind of a slut. Kendall could appreciate that in a girl.  
  
The first time she met James was at their homecoming dance. Or that’s what Kendall thought until halfway through the night, when he overheard her telling her friends that she’d fucked him a while back.  
  
She mentioned the stars, and a picnic table, and how frickin’ amazing James was.  
  
Kendall walked around with that visual painted on the back of his eyelids for the rest of the night. Before the dance ended, he let Faith pull him into one of the school bathrooms. When she sucked him off, he imagined that image, that crystal clear idea of James pounding into her.  
  
Kendall dumped Faith.  
  
Right after he came hot down her throat.

\---

  
He doesn’t recall a whole lot between the time he accepted the contract and the fight he had with James afterwards. He does remember fisting his hand in the front of James’s stupid v-neck, remembers the way James’s skin prickled with goosebumps when Kendall breathed hot on his ear.  
  
“Why,” James asked, looking completely and utterly lost.  
  
“Because I want to,” Kendall told him.  
  
Late at night, when he lets himself thing about it, Kendall does clearly remember the way James’s expression looked when he broke him.

\---

  
Kendall lost his virginity to Xander because it seemed like the thing to do. He was sick of holding back for James. He’d suffered through Taylor’s fumbling handjobs, survived Faith’s lips around his dick. He wanted to see if sex would make everything he felt for his best friend disappear.  
  
And Xander, well. She was beautiful. Brown shaggy hair and a perfect smile, shiny pink lips and a voice to die for. She was tall and willowy and kind of vain, but Kendall liked that.  
  
Plus she was a little bit kinky.  
  
The first time she fucked him was tame; they were in the back of her dad’s four door sedan, windows fogged, breathing harsh. She was wearing a plaid mini skirt like some kind of Catholic fucking school girl, her lacy thong pushed to the side while she rode Kendall. There wasn’t a whole lot of room back there. His right hand rested on her hips, guiding her as she rocked down on him and his left hand was shoved up under the thin cotton of her t-shirt, the satin of her bra. It was just them and the snow and the pine trees and the creaking of leather.  
  
After that, though, she didn’t hold back. She liked it when Kendall took her in increasingly public places; the dining room table right before her dad got home from work or the library stacks at school or under the bleachers during a football game. The idea of getting caught got her off.  
  
She also liked to play games. Kendall favored the handcuffs and blindfolds best; when he couldn’t see, he could imagine it was James wrapped around him, hot tight heat and moaning his name.  
  
Sex was nice. It wasn’t a life changing experience or anything, but it was something to do.  
  
And it was something Xander liked to do, often. Which was probably why Kendall found James balls deep inside of her one night.  
  
He didn’t announce his presence. He just watched James pound into her, watched the flex of his ass and the way her legs wrapped tight around his hips. Standing there, Kendall thought about how he’d fucked her less than half an hour before. She was probably wet, loose with his cum. Every time James thrust into her, he was touching a part of Kendall. James couldn’t have known.  
  
(This small part of Kendall thought _but what if he does_?)  
  
He watched her hands threading through James’s hair and he wanted to do something, to do anything but stand there and feel helpless. But he didn’t. He just watched, right up until the big finale. When Xander and James realized that he was standing there, she started freaking out. She began to give him all these excuses, saying that it wasn’t her fault.  
  
Kendall could barely hear her. He was meeting James’s eyes, steady, hands clenched at his side. James was staring back at him like he knew it would only be a matter of time before Kendall forgave him. The look on James’s face was defiant, _insolent_. His dick was still wet from Xander, from the way Kendall and James had both spilled inside of her. He had pink lipstick smeared across his throat and a hickey beneath his jaw and his pants were still undone, belt buckle flopping around on his waist and-  
  
Kendall turned around and slammed the door to James’s house. He practically ran back home, desperate to get away, desperate to-  
  
He banged inside his house, hollering, “I’m taking a shower!” at his mom’s surprised face. And then, when Kendall made it into the bathroom, he twisted the shower spigot on high and jerked off, furiously; the image of James’s neck, of his ass as he worked his way inside of Kendall’s girlfriend branded on the back of his eyelids.  
  
Kendall came hard and fast, biting James’s name into his forearm.  
  
\---  
The first time he sees James again, he’s standing at the double doors of the opera house, having his ticket checked by a black suited usher. Logan doesn’t even notice him standing there, but Kendall has always had a sixth sense for when James is nearby.  
  
It’s like his heart starts pumping too fast, pulse jumping under his skin.  
  
Kendall stares at him, enraptured, because fuck, he’s always been enraptured by James.  
  
He looks a little thinner, a little more angular than the last time Kendall saw him at that one stupid party Carlos decided to throw. Kendall isn’t actually allowed to call it stupid out loud. Carlos pretty much had a nervous breakdown when Kendall refused to stay, and Logan’s never really forgiven him for it. Kendall doesn’t care. He knows that Carlos meant well, because Carlos _always_ means well, but it’s not his or Logan’s job to fix things.  
  
This huge, sappy part of Kendall wants to throw his arms around James’s neck and hug him tight and hard. He’s never been very good at holding a grudge, and this. This has gone on for much too long. But every single time Kendall considers forgiving him, he thinks of Jo. He thinks of how he almost had a chance to be happy, just one. About how James didn’t care about him enough to let him have that _one_ chance.  
  
He can’t even concentrate on the play. All he can think about is James; about the first time he really heard him sing. He remembers thinking he’d never heard such a beautiful sound in his entire life. They were five, and when James told Kendall that he wanted to be a pop sensation, Kendall mostly thought it was kind of stupid, but James was _good_. Years later, Kendall liked to listen to him practice when they went hiking in the woods, just the two of them. They would climb to the tops of hills and lie side by side in the grass, trying to hum along to the rhythm of birdsong and the wind rustling through the trees. Kendall remembers lying there, wondering why he was so abnormally attached to James. Wondering how and when he’d be able to help him reach his dreams.  
  
Kendall had always wanted James to succeed.  
  
He still wants James to succeed, even though he single handedly snatched his best chance away.  
  
After the play lets out, Logan leads Kendall into the lobby, bouquet clutched in one hand. Kendall can already see what’s happening up ahead. He can see Camille pulling James into a rib-crushing hug. He can see the exact moment when Camille spots him and Logan. Logan realizes who she’s got her arms around two seconds too late. He freezes, one hand instinctively going up to clutch Kendall’s arm. Like he has to keep Kendall from crossing the room in a rage and doing something stupid.  
  
If Kendall could find his voice, he would tell Logan that he’s all out of stupid ideas.  
  
He’s not out of anger, though. Not by a long shot.  
  
When James marches up to him, all long limbs and perfect hair, expression vulnerable, Kendall doesn’t know what he’s _supposed_ to feel. This huge part of him has always felt like he had to take care of James. He’s this big, beautiful, confident guy on the outside, but growing up, Kendall imagined him to be sweet and a little bit defenseless when it came to the real world; with his unrealistic expectations and his reckless immaturity.  
  
He’d thought that James appreciated Kendall’s help, that he appreciated Kendall’s presence in his life.  
  
But-  
  
Once upon a time, Jo made Kendall happy. James took Jo. Kendall isn’t very good at math, but he was able to figure out what that equation meant. James didn’t want Kendall to be happy. Or maybe he just didn’t care. People get what they give. And James obviously never deserved Kendall’s loyalty. He never deserved Kendall’s love, this thing that smolders inside of him, even now, even as he wants to smash his face into the wall.  
  
So as much as this huge part of Kendall still wants, _needs_ to take care of James; seeing him there, looking exactly like he always has? It’s irritating.  
  
Logan fills the silence while Kendall stands there, simmering.  
  
“Um, we wanted to surprise you. Surprise,” Logan says, shoving a bouquet at Camille. Kendall meets James’s gaze and stares him down, anger swelling in his chest. He can’t read what’s in James’s eyes- or maybe he can. Maybe he can see something like hurt and hope and desperation. Kendall doesn’t want any of those things to be true. He presses his fingertips into his eyelids, trying to make his overwhelming guilt vanish. In a perfect world he could hold James close; kiss his neck and make all of the pain that’s built up between them like a wall disappear.  
  
“Hi,” James says, and Kendall can’t cope with this. He can’t cope with hearing James’s voice on something other than his iPod, singing and laughter and memories. He can’t cope with how worn James sounds, the fake optimism and the exhaustion that Kendall recognizes. Kendall sucks on the sides of his cheeks, trying to keep an apology from jumping unbidden from his mouth. He stares up at the chandelier, brilliant light that keeps his eyes from watering and he says, “You should probably. Go. Somewhere that isn’t here.”  
  
He feels like a bastard. But if James stays, Kendall might break down, right here. He might humiliate himself publically, and it will be one more victory that James can lord over him.  
  
Camille glares at him and snaps, “James, _no_ ,” and Logan won’t even look at Kendall, eyes trained on the way that James is cringing away from his words. It’s like he kicked a goddamn puppy, and Kendall knows he’s going to get an earful from Logan about this later.  
  
Kendall tries not to watch, but he sees out of the corner of his eye when James forces a smile, when he shrugs at Camille. She says, “Stop. You don’t have to- James!”  
  
James has already turned away from them. And now Kendall can watch, can actually look while James stalks away, defeated. Kendall tries to think that James is just mortified by public rejection. He tries to imagine that James’s shoulders aren’t trembling, like there’s an emotion building inside of him that he can’t physically contain.  
  
Kendall’s always had trouble lying. Even to himself.  
  
“What the hell did you do that for?” Camille turns on Kendall, “Why do you always have to ruin things? Can’t you just let it go?”  
  
“Camille-“  
  
“No, Logan. Don’t make excuses for him. I didn’t invite either of you here. I didn’t tell you to ruin my play.”  
  
“Sorry,” Kendall whispers, eyes still on James’s retreating back.  
  
He’s not really saying it to Camille at all.  
\---  
Jo was the first person Kendall met who made him feel like something approaching happy. He’d spent years looking for someone who would make him feel the way he did when he was with James. For someone who just- clicked. Jo was the first person who came really close. He loved her.  
  
And then, because James just couldn’t help himself, he had to kiss her.  
  
After Jo told him, Kendall had this horrible, awful confrontation with James. There was screaming and yelling while Logan and Carlos glanced back and forth between the two of them, horrified. Kendall couldn’t tell if it was because of his anger or if it was because of what James had done.  
  
“Dude, you kissed Jo? Why would you even do that?” Carlos had asked.  
  
James looked away. It wasn’t like he was smiling or rubbing it in Kendall’s face. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.  
  
But he didn’t apologize for it, either.  
  
James could have had any girl in the entire world. He chose to take Kendall’s. Kendall had spent so long forgiving James for being a horny bastard that he did it again and again, with ease. Until now, when Kendall really thought about it. He simmered in it. And he got angry about it.  
  
It wasn’t just a stupid kiss. It was getting stabbed in the back one time too many. It was that Kendall loved James so damn much and James didn’t even seem to care about Kendall, or the things he’d done for him. Kendall got him this stupid fucking boy band. Kendall moved him all the way out to California, never mind that singing was never his dream. Kendall had done everything he could to see James smile, and James was just a selfish bastard.  
  
He knew he should have expected it. Kendall thought maybe they’d lived a thousand other lives, Arthur and Lancelot, Ceasar and Brutus; best friends so famous throughout the centuries, always ending with betrayal. He thought that he should just forgive James one more time.  
  
Except he didn’t.  
  
What he did was take away the only thing that James cared about. He took away his future.  
  
Since that first day in preschool, all James had ever wanted was to sing. Gustavo had been bugging Kendall about going solo for a long time. Kendall never thought he’d ever take the record producer up on it, but this? Jo? It was the last straw.  
  
The first person who confronted him about taking the record deal was Katie.  
  
“Why did you do that?” Katie asked. Kendall felt awful. James was Katie’s big brother too, in a way. He’d been a part of her life before she had even had a life.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I honestly have no idea.”  
  
But it wasn’t like he could back out now.  
  
Afterwards, after he broke James’s heart, he sat in the apartment, staring at the door James had slammed on the way out. He was terrified, deep inside, that he wouldn’t be seeing James again. Not as a friend. Not ever.  
  
He must have been staring for hours before Logan sat down beside him and asked, tentatively, “You’re breaking up the band?”  
  
“Yeah. Sorry,” Kendall said, and it _was_ an honest apology. It was what he wanted to tell James, more than anything.  
  
He wanted to go back to Gustavo and tell him no, that he would never be able to sing by himself. That he didn’t want to be a singer at all.  
  
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, Kendall.”  
  
“He kissed Jo.”  
  
“He kissed Camille,” Logan said with a shrug. “I didn’t decide to pursue my own solo career.”  
  
“Gustavo didn’t offer you one.”  
  
“I didn’t love Camille enough to fuck over a friend,” Logan disagreed. “Thing is, I didn’t think you loved Jo enough to do that either.”  
  
Kendall crossed his arms and refused to say anything. Until-  
  
“James thinks he can have whatever he wants.”  
  
“He can. Have you ever tried to stop him? Have you ever even wanted to?”  
  
Kendall winced. He said, “If all he wants is sex, he should whore around with groupies. Not my girlfriend.”  
  
“You’re overreacting.”  
  
“Am I?”  
  
Logan gave him a look. “I can’t continue this conversation. I’ve got to get my college applications in before I’m out of a job.”   
  
\---  
Kendall’s performing at a charity concert in Malibu. Kelly says its good PR. Gustavo says he doesn’t want Kendall to fall out of practice. His last tour was months ago, after all.  
  
The whole thing’s going great until halfway through his first song, when Kendall feels the hair on the back of his neck prickle, like someone’s watching him.  
  
Everyone’s watching him; it’s a concert. But even so, he searches the crowd until his eyes land on a tall guy wearing Wayfarers and a white v-neck. James. Of course it’s James.  
  
Kendall messes up his verse, turning the word fake into the word fuck, and he knows Gustavo’s going to have his head on a platter by the end of the night. He tries to get back into character, to be the rockstar everyone expects. It’s the first time Kendall has ever sung on stage with James watching. Weirdly, he wants to do well, to make it clear that he _deserves_ this.  
  
To drive the point home, in case James hasn’t quite grasped it in the last five years. He’s always been a little slow. But maybe that too was just part of an act.  
  
Afterwards, Kendall is changing in his trailer, trying to mop sweat from his scalp when he hears a knock. He goes, shirtless, to the door, already knowing who he’s going to find. And maybe he’s just tired from the concert, or maybe all the endorphins in his system are forbidding him from finding the anger he needs, but he’s mostly resigned to sighing and asking, “What are you doing here?” when it proves to be James at his door.  
  
“I. Um. I was- it’s my day off. Can you. Um. Is this-“  
  
Kendall isn’t used to James stumbling over his words. It eats at him. He says, “Not here. Follow me.”  
  
His rental for the day is this tiny bungalow that’s all pastel and comfortable. It reminds him of the townhouse he’s put his mom and Katie up in closer to the Palmwoods; cheerful and upbeat.  Kendall slumps into one of the white wicker loveseats and asks, “So?”  
  
James looks troubled by the question, like he doesn’t know what it means. It bothers Kendall; there used to be a time when they could finish each other’s sentences.  
  
“I don’t-“  
  
“You have a job?”  
  
“I. Um. I’m a waiter,” James says, and Kendall feels the word like a punch to the gut. Waiter. He feels his anger finally rush back in, but it’s not towards James. Kendall can’t stand himself.  
  
He can’t stand what he’s reduced James to.  
  
“Oh. That’s- nice.”  
  
“We don’t all have Gustavo Rocque backing us,” James says, and suddenly Kendall’s anger isn’t completely focused on himself anymore. This is a more familiar guilt, one that’s he’s been able to justify by remembering all the things James has done to him, all the ways that James betrayed him.  
  
He says, “You want me to be sorry for that? Because I’m not.”  
  
“Don’t,” James chokes out, and okay, Kendall has been able to live with this guilt when James isn’t standing in front of him. He’s not sure he can handle it faced with the real life repercussions, with James, the _waiter_ , standing in front of him looking like he legitimately wants to cry.  
  
“What? Does the truth hurt?” It’s like he’s reading lines from a script now, because this can’t actually be what he wants to say.  
  
“No. Kendall, I-“  
  
Kendall’s pissed that he has to feel this way. He’s just _so_ mad.  
  
Which is a problem. Kendall’s never had a good grasp on his anger, or keeping it inside. From confronting douchebag record producers to getting revenge on asshole actors. He likes even odds, and he’s always gotten even. Always. Except now he feels like maybe stealing James’s dream away? Wasn’t actually completely even. It’s not like James can know that he’s starred in Kendall’s wet dreams since he first started having them. It’s not like James knows that Kendall’s _in love_ with him. And him standing there, so obviously hurt? Makes Kendall even madder, because he hates that he’s caused this. He hates himself, and he hates James, and he wishes there was some way to undo all of it.  
  
So he tries to make James mad, because at least anger is better than aching.  
  
“You’re such a _dick_.”  
  
“Dude. I just came here to see you. I just- wanted to see you, okay? I don’t want to argue.”  
  
Okay. Making him mad doesn’t seem to be working. If anything, it sounds like-  
  
“You think I’m stupid? You think you’re going to fool me into thinking you care about me? At all?”  
  
He’s never meant to say that out loud. He’s never meant to admit how much it stings that his former best friend, that the boy he’s loved forever and a day, never even respected him.  
  
Except James looks horrified. Like Kendall’s slapped him in the face, or told him they’re discontinuing Cuda, or- he looks like Kendall’s just told him that someone has died. His face has gone completely white.  
  
“ _What?_ If you think I don’t, then you’re an _idiot!”_  
  
Kendall feels fear shake at his core, because no. He can’t have been wrong. Not about this. “Please. You think I don’t know that you’re the reason Jessica stopped talking to me in grade school? You think I didn’t notice when Paige went from liking me to you in the space of a day? You’ve tried to steal every girl I’ve ever liked. Every- person. Taylor.”  
  
“I knew you had a thing for him,” James says, and there. Isn’t that proof that James knew he was hurting Kendall? On purpose?  
  
“And he, _ridiculously,_ thought _you_ had a thing for _me_ ,” Kendall pauses for a minute to let the ludicrous notion sink in. James doesn’t really look like he thinks it’s ludicrous at all. Abruptly, Kendall can’t breathe. He tries to barrel on, “That’s why we fought. Turns out he just wanted into your pants. Just like every other person I’ve ever been with- Ruby and Faith and don’t even get me started on Xander. Or Jo.”  
  
Jo. That’s what he has to hold onto. Not the love he no longer feels for her, but the way that James knowingly stabbed him in the back and then twisted the knife.  
  
“Kendall-“  
  
“Singing is the only thing you ever fucking cared about,” Kendall screams, and he tries to funnel all of it, all of the horror and the betrayal and the pain he felt when he first realized that James didn’t give a flying fuck about him into those words. And somewhere in them, in the acidity of his voice, he hears the love that he threw away, too. “I had to take something from you. Just _one_ thing. The most important thing.”  
  
James says, “It wasn’t the most important thing. But you took that away too.”  
  
 _No._  
  
Kendall refuses to accept the weight of those words. He refuses to believe that after all this time, he was wrong.  
  
 “Get out,” he exhales, panic on his tongue, “Just get the fuck out.”  
  
And James does.  
  
\---  
Kendall talked to Carlos the night after James left the Palmwoods. He’d gone looking for him, really, because like James, Carlos didn’t come back to the apartment. Unlike James, he was at the pool, staring into the water and looking like he might cry. Kendall settled down beside him.  
  
“James didn’t mean to hurt you, Kendall.”  
  
“How do you know that?”  
  
“James doesn’t want to hurt anyone.” Carlos kicked a foot in the water and said, “He’s just a dumbass sometimes. All the time. What am I supposed to do without you guys?”  
  
“We’ll find you something.”  
  
“You will?”  
  
“Of course. I’m not going to let you go rot in Minnesota. Logan’s going to go to school. You’re going to be an actor. We’ll all be fine.”  
  
“What about James? Are you going to help find him a job, too?”  
  
“No. James is on his own, now.”  
  
“Kendall-“  
  
“He made his choice, okay?”  
  
When Carlos looked at him right then, he didn’t look young or vulnerable or anything like Carlos. He looked- exhausted. And he said, “None of us know how to live on our own, dude. Look, Logan told me about this, once. You know what happens when symbiotic things stop being symbiotic?”  
  
“What the fuck does symbiotic mean?”  
  
“Things that live off each other.”  
  
“No. What?”  
  
“I don’t really know either,” Carlos said with a shrug. “I stopped paying attention once Logan explained what symbiosis meant. But you know what I think?”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“They die, Kendall. They just- die.”  
  
“We’re not going to die if we’re not together. Don’t be dumb.”  
  
“We might not die, dude. But we might not live, either.”  
  
Ever since, Kendall had always thought that maybe he was right.  
\---  
  
Kendall isn’t sure what makes him hunt down James’s address. All he knows is that when he shows up at James’s door, well past midnight, he wants- something.  
  
“Why are you here?” James asks, eyes dark.  
  
“That’s my line. I- Logan gave me your address.” He takes a deep breath and asks the question that’s been plaguing him all day. “You came to my concert. Why? Really?”  
  
“I didn’t know you were having a concert. Or I did, but- I didn’t meant to be there.”  
  
Kendall closes his eyes and sees the way James looked that afternoon, telling him that singing wasn’t the most important thing. Looking at Kendall like maybe _he_ was. Is. Kendall doesn’t know.  
  
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It wasn’t- if someone had gotten pictures of that, it would-“  
  
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”  
  
Like Kendall gives a fuck about his career. It was always supposed to be James’s anyway. He snorts. “Don’t make me laugh. Please.”  
  
“Why not?” James gives him this half cocked smile that makes Kendall _want_. His hands clench at his sides.  
  
“Because I really hate you. I’ve never hated anyone so much in my entire life.”  
  
It doesn’t make him feel better; saying it out loud.  
  
“I know,” James says, and how can James know? James has never been introspective. He’s never thought about how he hurts other people. “I’ve been trying to stay out of your life, okay?”  
  
Kendall feels his gut twist.  
  
“But- a waiter? You’ve been working as a waiter?”  
  
“It’s not a bad way to live.”  
  
“It’s not you. You’re supposed to be-“ me, is what Kendall wants to say. James is supposed to have everything that belongs to Kendall. He never had a problem taking it all before.  
  
“Singing? You’re supposed to be playing hockey.” Kendall misses hockey. He misses the clarity of the ice and his team at his back. It wasn’t just James’s dream that he crushed. James says, “For what it’s worth, I like your music.”  
  
“You listen to it?” Kendall asks, surprised.  
  
“Sometimes.”  
  
“Why would you do that?” Kendall can’t help but ask.  
  
Because. I always-“  
  
Kendall realizes that he’s going to say sorry, and he is suddenly certain that he doesn’t want to hear it. He reaches out, slamming James against the wall of his apartment, growling, “Don’t. Don’t apologize when you don’t _mean_ it.”  
  
“I _wasn’t_ going to apologize,” James mutters.  
  
“Then what were you going to say? What could you possibly say that will make this okay?”  
  
Nothing. There is nothing James can say. Kendall knows it. So does James. He replies, “Nothing. But I l-“  
  
 _No_.  
  
“Stop,” Kendall barks, and he can’t- the way James is looking at him is too much, its like- like Kendall is something he actually cherishes. Kendall will not get fooled into thinking that again.  
  
“Fine. I won’t talk,” James says, and Kendall is going to walk away, he’s going to leave this apartment and never look back.  
  
Only he can’t.  
  
Because James has fisted his hands in the collar of Kendall’s shirt and he’s _kissing_ him.  
  
Kendall can’t do anything but sob into his mouth and kiss back, tongue probing. He feels James’s hips jerk against his, feel the exact second he beings to go hard in his jeans. Kendall murmurs, “This is all you want, isn’t it?” because he doesn’t know what this is, can’t know what this is. James can’t actually want him back, so what? He just wants to add Kendall to the list of his conquests?  
  
James makes this noise that sounds like a yes, so Kendall goes along with it. He mumbles, “You dirty fucking whore,” thinking dirty fucking _beautiful_ whore, thinking _mine_. Kendall etches words with his fingertips into James’s skin, four letter words like _want_ and _need_ and _love_. He breathes apologies onto his skin, things that he can never say out loud because it would be like surrender.  
  
Kendall pulls James away from the wall, mouth still insistent against his, nipping at his jaw and his throat and the soft skin of his clavicle. He leads him, quaking, away from the door. James takes over, navigating towards what Kendall assumes is his bedroom, clothes falling to the floor like flower petals; and Kendall thinks, _he loves me, he loves me not._ His hands tremble over James’s jeans, because this is not some random lookalike one night stand, this is the real thing, the thing he’s wanted for too long now, and he’s _scared_. It’s the first time Kendall’s been scared of sex in a long time; he’s worried he won’t be good enough or that he will somehow mess up. Even if this is just a game to James, it means too much to him to fuck up.  
  
James senses his hesitation, unbuckling his own jeans and shoving them down past his ankles, a pale silhouette. When he looks at Kendall it’s a challenge. He drops to his knees and strips Kendall of his clothes, pressing hot wet kisses against his thighs.  
  
Kendall feels himself coming apart. He pushes James back onto the bed, pressing his mouth hot against his throat, sucking and biting and tonguing his name into James’s skin like a brand. James’s hips press up against his, cock sliding wet against Kendall’s. In some ways it’s less than what Kendall expected, the shift of skin and not enough friction; sex is sex is sex. But in other ways it’s so much more, because even having been through this routine with other men, James is James, and it’s been five years since Kendall has been allowed to touch him in the most minute way. Now he’s got him laid out in front of him like some kind of fucking feast, and he feels like he’s stuck in a dream, because this can’t be real.  
  
Kendall pumps his hand over the both of them, but it’s not enough movement, not enough heat. He finds lube in James’s nightstand because that is where James has always kept it. He remembers from nights spent at the Diamond home, nights where James would emerge from the shower soaking wet and glowing, nights where Kendall would have to sneak into the bathroom too late to handle the problem that constantly arose whenever James was near. Those nights are on the forefront of his brain when he coats his palm, when he stretches James one finger at a time. James winces against the movement, and maybe Kendall’s slightly sadistic, because he enjoys that; he enjoys the idea that James will actually feel this tomorrow morning. He wants James to feel him in his bones long after this ends, to be a part of James that he will never, ever be able to eradicate.  
  
When Kendall fucks into James, he doesn’t know what’s hotter: the press of James’s ass around his dick or the way that he’s watching Kendall, eyes like black holes that devour all the light in the room. He’s drawing Kendall into his abyss, and Kendall lets him, watches back like if he breaks eye contact all of this will disappear.  
  
He wants James to touch him, wants to know that he didn’t imagine that first kiss. That James wants this as much as he does. But James’s fingers stay clenched around the sheets, beneath them, and even though he’s still watching Kendall with dark, guarded eyes, Kendall can’t tell if he actually wants it at all. So Kendall does the only thing he can, grabbing him closer, fucking into him harder. Faster. With every thrust James’s body jolts and then he’s touching Kendall back, grabbing him, holding tight to his shoulders and mouthing against his throat, his jawline, his mouth. When his hands claw into Kendall’s back, body spasming around his dick, Kendall can’t help the string of _I love yous_ that stutter from his lips with the motion of his hips. He feels too much for this stupid, stupendous boy; even if he is a traitor and a jerk, Kendall forgives him. He’ll forgive him for anything if he can just stay like this, friction and heat and James’s teeth scraping against his shoulder.  
  
When James cums, it’s a burn against Kendall’s stomach and he’s arching up, mouthing against Kendall’s lips, stealing away his breath, his love, his soul. Kendall can’t hold back anymore, and he thrusts twice before his vision goes white.  
  
He thinks through the fog of his orgasm he hears James say, “I love you.”  
  
As soon as his head’s clear enough that he can walk, he gets dressed and leaves. All this time, Kendall has thought that he loves James. Now he thinks that maybe he’s been wrong.  
  
Because the one thing that Kendall doesn’t know if he can forgive is James loving him in return.  
  
Because Kendall has always played at being brave, but when it comes to James, he’ll always be a coward.  
  
\---

He’s on a bus to Oregon for a concert when he gets the courage to text James. _  
  
Why did you do it?_  
  
He means so many things; why did James fuck him? Why did James fuck him over? Why did he let Kendall get away with being such a douchebag?  
  
James answers, _Because I wanted you._

                Kendall stares down at the text message until it blurs, and he has to dig his fingertips into his eyelids to make the world stop swimming.  
  
Maybe, in his own way, James wasn’t actually trying to fuck Kendall over at all. Maybe he was doing whatever he could to be as close to Kendall as humanly possible. It’s psychotic.  
  
It’s something James would do.  
  
Kendall has a choice here.  
  
The one thing he’s learned from all of this is that James brings out his darkness. But he also makes Kendall feel right, like everything has clicked into place.  
  
He knows that he should stay away. That he should find a happiness that won’t ever hurt. He knows he can find someone who will make it easier, like Jo. He knows that’s the right choice. The mature choice. Clinging onto a relationship that almost destroyed them both, that’s something a child would do.  
  
That’s Romeo and Juliet, never able to figure out that there is so much more life to live.  
  
Even if the memory of James weighing on the back of his neck will drive him a little bit insane, Kendall knows he should make the adult choice. He should go for being content, for enjoying his life in peace.  
  
Diving back into a relationship with his best friend, the traitor, the liar, the gorgeous boy-god, after everything that has happened will be digging himself a hole so deep he’ll never be able to climb back out again.  
  
But Kendall’s always kind of had a thing for trouble. And he hates giving up.  
  
So he flips open his phone and dials one of his contacts. “I’ve heard you’re looking for a new face.”  
  
Above all, it’s his life to fuck up, and-  
  
Choosing James has never really felt like a choice.  
  
One day, far in the future, Kendall will tell James that he’s forgiven him. He’ll press a kiss to his mouth and tell him all about the love that’s made his blood boil for so many years.

One day, he’ll tell James that he wants him too.

 


End file.
